On the way home from a Christmas party, I stopped at Standing Bear Lake with Anne and the kids. The party had been awful. Each of us wanted to talk about Elliot, to remember him, to think of him at Christmas, but whenever we brought him up the conversation was avoided. It seemed like everyone else was acting like he had never existed.
At the lake, the kids started throwing rocks onto the ice. Then they started going onto the ice to get the rocks. They crept further and further out. The children’s daring scared Anne, but the ice held. They were taunting death a little. It had been warm for December, and Anne was right to distrust the ice, but I did not worry too much because the water was not deep. It felt good. We had a good time, laughed, and walked on a short trail.
The six of us have each other, and I am thankful for that. That is why we can still have a little joy in the midst of our pain. However, the darkest moments of grief and trauma isolate each member of the family. There are times Elliot’s death from suicide is all that can be seen, and life seems like a void. When grief hits at full force, you are all alone. It is so scary for me. What is like for my children? Depression must have created a similar but more acute sense of pain and isolation in Elliot.
There were five other cars in the parking lot
I noticed that there were five other cars in the parking lot. Each car held a person sitting alone–sitting alone in a parking lot on Christmas Eve. What causes a person to sit in a car alone on Christmas Eve? Were any of them missing a loved one? Had any of them lost a son or brother? Were any of them wrestling with major depressive disorder or anxiety? Did they have family? Did they have family that did not understand what they were going through? Do these people in their cars know that we are sad as well? I hope they do. I wanted to knock on every car door and say, “If you are suffering, come out and join us.” I wish I had.
Elbert Hubbard says, “Loneliness is to endure the presence of one who does not understand.” I was lonely today. I did not recognize signs of major depressive disorder in my son while he was alive. Elliot must have been lonely when he was with me. Did Elliot hurt like this? Did he think I was phony or think I was ignoring the pain, the loss, the hopelessness that was so overwhelming to him? I will never get to ask him, never get the chance to acknowledge his loss, never…
Next Christmas Eve, I will go to Standing Bear again. I will invite Anne and the kids, but if they do not want to come I will go and sit alone in my car.
